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Thursday, September 17, 2015

IPAD AIR MINI 2!!!!

All you need to do is read the first two chapters of my newest novel
INTO THE FIRE and copy/paste your favorite line in the COMMENTS down
below. That's it! **OPEN INTERNATIONALLY**
This GIVEAWAY will be open from 09/17/2015-10/17/2015. Good luck!

Chapter One Ash
I sat across from the banker in the office with glass doors. He was a
typical suit who hated his job. His voice was always full of boredom,
and his desk lacked any personality at all. It was a typical
corporation, void of life.

“Just give me the loan,” I barked.
“How are small businesses supposed to start up if you don’t give them a
chance?” I wasn’t asking for a kidney transplant or something.

“I’m sorry.” He seemed bored out of his mind. “You don’t have the right credit.”

“My credit isn’t even that bad.”

He eyed his computer again. “Sir, you need to get it up and then we can talk again.”

Dammit, why did I buy that motorcycle? “Fine. I’ll just go somewhere else.”

“And they’re going to tell you the same thing.”

I wanted to growl but I managed not to. “How about some free ink? I’m the best in the business.”

He gave me a stoic expression. “Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.”

“Whatever.” I stood and didn’t bother shaking his hand. “I’ll just get the loan from someone else.”

“Good luck, sir.”

***

“How’d it go?” Sawyer asked across the table from me. He was eating a burger covered in BBQ sauce.

“How do you think it went?” I barely touched my food because I was so
irritated. Normally, I ate anything I could get my hands on. But now
every sensation in my body was numb.

“Sorry, man. Just get your credit up.”

“You say that like it’s so simple. It could take years for that to happen.”

He shook his head. “I told you not to buy that bike.”

I glared at him. “Now isn’t the time to say I told you so.”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying…”

I threw a fry at him. “Well, don’t.”

It bounced off his face and landed on the plate. “Are you five?”

“Sometimes.” I grabbed the fry and ate it.

“Dude, that just touched my face.”

“So?” I drank my soda and washed it down. “It’s food. Who cares?” He rolled his eyes then wiped his fingers with a napkin. “Now what?”

“I don’t have a fucking clue. I don’t mind working at Ascension but I’m
getting bored there. I want my own shop. I want to make my own rules.”

“Maybe you can do it out of your apartment until you get enough cash.”

“That’s not creepy…”

“It was just a suggestion, smart ass. It’s better than all your ideas.” I didn’t have any ideas. “Maybe I should just go back in the army.” He stopped eating. “Not funny, man.”

“They’re assholes,” Sawyer said. “They’re going to hold this over your head as long as possible.”

I had a feeling he was right.

“And you would really go through that again?” he asked incredulously. “Back to Afghanistan?”

“It wasn’t the worst thing in the world…” I’d seen a lot of things I
wouldn’t share with anyone else. If people shuttered at violent movies,
they wouldn’t be able to handle all the things I’d seen. Their stomachs
couldn’t keep their lunch down.

“I don’t want you to go,” Sawyer said. “You came back this time but who knows if you’d come back again.”

It was a depressing thought. “Anyway, I’m seeing my parents tonight so I’ll bring it up again.”

“Good luck with that.”

“But I’ll keep playing the Lotto. I have a better chance of winning that than getting my savings back.”

“Why did you give it to them to begin with?”

Because I was stupid. “My dad was going to lose his company if I
didn’t. He’d already extended his credit line as far as possible, and
they would take the house if he didn’t get the money. My parents would
have lost everything, including their reputation.”

“I’m surprised they took your money. My parents would never take anything from me.”

“I knew it was a gamble at the time. If my dad’s prototype wasn’t a
success, they would have lost everything, including my money.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe they’re holding it over your head like this.”

“They claim they don’t have the money but I’m not buying it.” He leaned back in his booth and sighed. “Maybe you should go back in the military and give your parents a heart attack.” It was tempting. *** I walked into my parents' house in Connecticut. “Yo. Your baby is home.”

“Is that Ash?” Mom said quietly.

Dad whispered back. “Who else would barge in like that?”

I entered the kitchen and saw them having tea while reading the
newspaper. “Your day just got brighter. What’s up, Mom and Pop?” Mom gave me a curt smile but it looked forced. “Hey, honey. How are you?”

“I’ve been better.” I gave her a quick hug then raised my hand to high-five Dad.

He eyed it awkwardly before he completed the embrace. “What’s up, Son?”

I sat in the seat then snatched a cookie. “Dude, these are the best.” I
ate five of them in three seconds. Crumbs got on the table and on my
fingertips.

Mom eyed me with disapproval.

Dad was more laid back than Mom. “How was your day?”

“Pretty shitty.”

“Don’t cuss,” Mom barked.

“Pretty lame,” I said. “The bank denied my loan application again.”

I watched their reaction to my news.

Mom eyed Dad then quickly looked down.

Dad felt his teacup but didn’t say anything.

It got awkward fast. “I’m not trying to be one of those annoying suits,
but I could really use the money I loaned you. It’s been four years and
I’ve put off opening my shop for too long.”

Mom sighed like she was irritated. She sipped her tea without looking at me.

Dad continued to eye his glass.

Why was it always so awkward when I brought up this subject? “Look, I
know the business has been doing well. Surely, you have the money by
now.” I didn’t want to stick my nose in their business but I didn’t know
what else to do.

“Sorry, we don’t,” Dad said quietly.

“Seriously?” I blurted without thinking. “You just bought a new Audi.
How can you not have the money?” I didn’t want to accuse my parents of
lying but nothing was adding up.

“We got a loan,” Mom explained.

“Why are you buying things you can’t afford?” I snapped. “Period.”

Dad glared at me. “Don’t talk to your mother like that.”

“I’m not,” I barked. “I’m talking to you like that.”

The tension escalated.

“Look, you don’t have to give me all of it. Just give me what you have.
If I lessen the amount I need to borrow, the bank might help me out.”

Mom and Dad stared at each other.

Seriously, what was I missing? “You must have some money to loan me.
You’re making your mortgage somehow and you just hired more employees.”

Mom fixed her hair like she was flustered.

Dad adjusted his glasses like he didn’t know what else to do.

“Okay, cut the shit,” I said. “What’s up?”

Mom cleared her throat. “Ash, your father and I love you very much…”

Oh no. Here we go.

“But we want you to turn your life around. Opening a shop is just going to put you further down this path.”

“What path?” I asked. “I’m happy. Don’t you want me to be happy?” Dad took over. “We think you could be happier if you changed some things.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“How about you come to the company and work there?” Mom asked. “You could move up and eventually take it over.”

“But I don’t care about software,” I answered. “I never have.” Mom fidgeted with the fancy bracelet on her wrist. “And owning a tattoo shop is something you care about?”

“Yeah.” What was the big deal? “I like inking. I enjoy it. I always have.”

Mom eyed the ink on my arms with disdain. “You need to make better
choices in your life. Owning a tattoo shop isn’t a good way to start.”

“And doing a job I hate will be?” I asked incredulously. “Don’t you want me to do what I love?” I never understood them.

“Of course we do,” Dad said. “But we don’t think this is the best way to go about it.”

My anger was starting to bubble and I was struggling to keep it back. I
gripped the table because I wanted to flip it over. “It’s not my
problem you don’t agree with my life choices. This is who I am and I’m
never going to change.”

Silence fell in the room. Mom eyed Dad, and he eyed her back. “We’re tired of having to explain your behavior to other people,” Mom said.

“Then don’t,” I said. “Who cares what they think?”

“It hurts our image,” Dad said. “It would be much easier for us if you—”

“Easier for you?” I asked. “It would be much easier for me if I didn’t
have to deal with this bullshit all the time. Just pay back the loan I
gave you and we can stop having this conversation.”

Mom pushed her tea away like she might throw it at me. “We’re still taking the heat from when you went to jail.”

I rolled my eyes. Not this again. “Look, I got a little out of control and—”

“You had sex with some woman in an alleyway,” Dad snapped. “People still bring it up.”

“I didn’t know that cop was there, okay?” I said. “I didn’t want to go to jail or get a public indecency misdemeanor.”

“This is what we’re talking about,” Mom said. “You make bad decisions and don’t think about anyone but yourself.”

“You should try it,” I said coldly. “You’d be a lot happier that way.”

Mom threw her arms down. “Ash, we aren’t giving you that money until you clean up your act.”

Shit just got real. “You’re joking, right? I gave you that money so you
wouldn’t lose your house. I didn’t have to help you but I did because
you’re my parents. And now you aren’t going to give it back to me until
you can control me like a damn puppet?”

“Don’t cuss,” Mom ordered.

“This is fucking unbelievable. How do you sleep at night?”

“We will give you back the money,” Dad said. “We just want you to clean up a little bit.”

“Clean up how?” I demanded. “I’m not on drugs.”

“You’re almost thirty years old and you’ve never brought a girl
around,” Mom said. “Why don’t you focus on settling down and finding a
family?”

“Maybe because I don’t want to.” I wasn’t boyfriend
material and knew I never would be. “My personal life is totally
irrelevant to this conversation. Just give me back the money I loaned
you. If I could get a loan, I wouldn’t bother with you. But I don’t have
a choice.”

“Exactly,” Mom said. “This is a blessing. Now you can finally get your act together.”

I wanted to scream. “I served three tours in Afghanistan. If that doesn’t make you proud, I don’t know what will.”

They both had guilty looks on their faces.

“You only did that to spite us,” Mom said.

“And you think I won’t do it again?” I challenged.

“That’s not funny,” Dad said.

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

Mom changed the subject. “This is how it’s going to be. Make a few changes and we’ll pay back the loan.”

I couldn’t believe I was at their mercy like this. I felt emasculated
and weak. I never put up with someone’s bullshit but I didn’t have any
other option. As soon as I got my money, I wouldn’t have to deal with
their shit anymore. And I would never help them again, even if they
asked. “Like what?” I ground my teeth together as I spoke.

“Find a nice girl and settle down.”

“What the hell is that going to do?” I demanded. “What does it matter if I have sex with one girl or twenty?”

Mom cringed at my crude words. “Because when you find the right girl, you’ll grow up.”

“You think if I get a girlfriend, I’ll suddenly change my mind about the shop?”

“Yes,” Mom said seriously. “You’ll realize you can’t raise a family
with that kind of reputation. You’ll open your eyes and grow up. And
you’ll thank us for it.”

“So, if I get a girlfriend, you’ll pay
back the loan?” That wasn’t adding up. “As soon as I get the money, I’ll
open the shop anyway.” “When we see you fall in love with her,
we’ll hand over the money,” Mom said. “And then you can do whatever the
hell you want—and we know you won’t open that shop.”

I was
already anti-girlfriend but I definitely wouldn’t be with someone who
didn’t accept me for who I was. So, their plan was stupid. But I didn’t
see any way around it. If I just did as they asked, I’d get their money
and pursue my dream. Then I wouldn’t be at their mercy like this. I
could finally do what I wanted.

“Fine,” I said. “We have a deal.”

Dad visibly relaxed now that the fight was over.

“And it better be a nice girl,” Mom said. “No one with ink and that crap.”

God, my parents were judgmental. “Fine. Whatever. But you need to give
me your word that you’ll return my money.” I leaned forward and looked
her in the eye. “I’m not agreeing to this unless you do.” She nodded. “I promise, Ash.”

I turned to my dad and waited for his pledge.

“I’ll give you the short version of the long version,” I said as I
grabbed a beer from the fridge. “If I get a serious girlfriend, they’ll
give me the money.”

He was sitting on the couch watching TV. The
game faded to the background as he turned to me. “Wait…what? What does
that have to do with anything?”

“They know they can’t get me to change so they think a serious girlfriend might have some magic up her sleeve.”

“Dude, your parents are lame.” He took a drink of his beer.

“My parents are shitheads. They already disliked me when I started
inking, but they really started hating me after I was in jail for three
days. In their eyes, I can’t do anything right. Honestly, I wouldn’t
give a damn if they didn’t have my money.”

“Well, getting a girlfriend should be easy enough for you.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I sat on the couch. “How do you figure? I’ve never had a girlfriend before.”

“But it won’t be hard to get one.” He eyed his watch. “You could get one before midnight if you really wanted to.”

“Well, I know that,” I said before I took a drink. “But I don’t want one. What do you do with them anyway?”

He shrugged. “Talk to them?”

“See, I don’t like to talk.”

“Take them out to dinner?”

“But then I’d have to talk to them for an entire meal. Shit, I don’t have that much to talk about.”

“Have sex with them?”

“Well, I’m down with that. But I can’t have sex with the same person
more than a few times. It grows stale like bread that’s been left out
too long.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

I shrugged.
“I’m not going to waste some girl’s time by pretending to actually like
her. That would be fucked up. And how could I get a girl to go along
with it unless there was something in it for her?” I searched my brain
for an answer but was drawing a blank. Sawyer did the same.

He sipped his beer and watched the game. Then he snapped his fingers as an idea came to him. “Hire someone.”

I shot him a glare. “I’m not paying a prostitute.” I’m not a judgmental
person. People could do whatever they wanted. But I wasn’t resorting to
that.

“No, hire an escort.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No. A buddy of mine did it because his ex went to the same wedding as
he did. He just paid some chick to be his date and she played the part.
Apparently, his ex was super jealous…something like that.”

That was an interesting idea. “So, you just pay them to be there?”

“Yep.”

“And that’s it?” It sounded too good to be true.

“Well, they have rules and stuff…I don’t know the specifics.”

“How do I find this place? Do you have the number?”

“I’ll ask him for it.” He pulled out his phone and sent a text. “Oh,
and the chick was really hot. At least that’s what he said.”

“Like, how hot?”

“Like, he beat off to her in the shower hot.”

I nodded with an awed look on my face. “Damn, that is hot.”

“I know. I kinda want to rent one just for fun.”

“Do they…do other things?” Not that I would ever pay for sex.

“I’m not sure but I think they don’t. But they’re expensive, a lot more expensive than a whore.”

“Interesting…”

His phone lit up with a response. “It’s called Beautiful Entourage.”

He handed me the phone. “There’s the number.”

“Thanks.” I typed it in my phone.

“Are you really going to do it?” he asked. “It’s pretty lame if you have to pay for a date.”

“But it would be worse if I used a girl like that. Women can get so
clingy sometimes. It’s fucking annoying. If this is a business
transaction, there shouldn’t be any issues.”

“Good way to think about it.”

I put the phone in my pocket. “I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Good luck.” ***
Beautiful Entourage was damn hard to find. There was a Chinese place
near the sidewalk, and the smell of chow mein made me hungry. A part of
me wished the place was inside the restaurant so I could get some lunch.

When I finally realized the place was in the rear, I walked inside and
stared at the hardwood floors, gray walls with white trimming, and the
elegant white furniture of the lobby.

Damn, this place was nice.

“Can I help you?” A girl was playing solitaire on her desk. I walked further inside. “This is Beautiful Entourage, right?” “You found the right place.” Her eyes dilated when she looked me up and down, clearly liking what she saw.

Yeah, yeah, I’m hot. I know. “Great. So…how does this work?”

“I’m more than happy to explain.” She cleared her desk of the cards
then pulled out some paperwork. “We assist clients with dates for
various reasons. But you need to understand this isn’t a dating service,
and it’s not a hookup service. Our only job is to play a part for you.”

“Okay.” So far so good.

“We have very strict rules, and if you choose to break them, you’ll be
terminated from our contract and we’ll also pursue legal action. This is
not a joke.”

“Okay…” Pursue legal action for what?

“Now to the fun part.” She turned to her computer and started clicking with her mouse. “What’s your type?”

“I prefer my coffee black.”

She smiled. “No, your type of woman. Blonde? Brunette?”

“Oh.” Whoops. “I don’t care.”

“Tall or short?”

I was six foot three so I doubted a girl would be taller than me. “Don’t care.”

“What about—”

“Sweetheart, let me save you some time. I don’t care.”

“You’re easy…” She kept working on her computer before she printed
something out. “Payment is due up front and there are no refunds. You’ll
meet with Alessandra on Friday at the coffee shop just on the corner.”

“Alessandra?”

“She will be your escort.”

“Is that her real name?” I asked. “Because that’s hot.”

She grinned. “You can ask her yourself.” She handed the papers over. “I just need you to sign here and here.”

I grabbed the pen and added my signatures.

“The meeting at the coffee shop is complimentary so don’t worry about that.”

“A coffee date with a hot chick named Alessandra? Sweet deal.” She chuckled. “Have a good time. I can promise you’ll like her.” I bet I would.

Chapter Two Alessandra
I got to the coffee shop early and sipped my coffee. I had so many of
these meetings that they blurred together. It was easy to forget names
and faces. I knew this guy’s name was Ash, and apparently he was hot.

Lucky me.

My clients were hardly ever cute. If they were, what would they need my
services for? But I did enjoy my job because it was fulfilling. I
helped people get through difficult times. I was even friends with some
of them.

The door opened and a tall man walked inside. He wore
dark jeans that hung low on his hips and a dark green t-shirt. He had
wide shoulders that reminded me of a soldier, and his chest looked broad
and powerful. He was more than just fit. He looked extremely athletic,
like a marine or something.

He had dark brown hair and fair skin. His eyes were blue like the ocean, and they were endless in their depth.

Damn, he was hot.

His arms were covered in sleeves of tattoos. Instead of being all black
ink, there were various colors. Green, orange, and blue were prominent
colors, and they were highlighted under the fluorescent lights.

There was no way he was my client. That would be a dream come true.

He looked around the shop like he was searching for something—or someone.

I opened the folder and flipped through the pages until I found a copy of his driver’s license.

Shit, it was him.

There was no way he was straight. He must need me to pose as his
girlfriend to his family or something. I’d done gigs like that before.

I stood up and gave him a quick wave. “Ash?”

His gaze focused on me, and those blue eyes seemed even brighter.
Approval was in his look as he approached me. He carried himself like he
owned the room and everyone in it. His appearance was intimidating. I’d
never seen someone so beautiful in my life. The tattoos just made him a
million times sexier.

Get a grip.

He approached me and extended his hand. “Ash.”

“Alessandra.” I took it, and my hand felt petite in comparison to his.
The skin was warm but calloused like he used his hands all the time.

“That’s a hot name.”

“Thanks…” I’d never gotten a compliment like that so I was a little flustered. “Ash is cool too.” God, why did I say that?

He sat down, and his torso completely blocked the chair.

I was normally the confident one but now I was a little shaky. This guy
was too beautiful to be true. He had to be gay. The hot ones were
always gay. “So…how can I help you?”

He shrugged. “I need a girlfriend so my parents will get off my ass. That’s where you come in.”

“Are you gay?” Ugh, why did I ask it like that? It was so abrupt and harsh.

“No…” He narrowed his eyes on my face. “How the hell did I give you
that impression? I checked out your rack the second I walked in the
door. And when you turn around, I’m going to check out your ass.”

He did? I didn’t even notice. And a comment like that would normally
result in a slap across the face. But he somehow pulled it off without
sounding like a perverted sleazebag. “I just…” Think of something
intelligent to say. “Guys like you don’t normally need to pay for a
date…unless they’re gay and need a fake girlfriend.”

“Oh, I get
it.” He leaned back in the chair and rested one hand on the table.
“Nope. I’m definitely straight.” His eyes moved down to my chest before
he looked me in the eye again. Then he winked. I should feel violated but I didn’t.

“Okay…what do you need me to do?”

“But why do you need me?”

He rolled his eyes like the question irritated him. “It’s a really long
story, but basically my parents owe me money but they won’t give it to
me unless I have a serious girlfriend.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I couldn’t agree more, sweetheart.”

“Why do they owe you money?”

“They have a software company and it took a bad turn when this
competitor got big. My parents needed the cash for a prototype so I lent
it to them. Five years later, I still haven’t gotten it back even
though their company is making bank. They don’t approve of my lifestyle
and my interests. I need the money to open up my own shop, but I can’t
get a loan because my credit is terrible. So, I have to play by their
rules or kiss my dream goodbye.”

That sounded complicated. “What kind of shop?”

He presented both of his arms. “Tattoo shop.” Every inch of his skin
was covered with ink. There were different images, like a ladder that
led to nowhere, song lyrics, and a Hawaiian flower. “My parents think
I’m a worthless loser. And perhaps they’re right. But I don’t care. I
need to get this shop open. I’m tired of working for someone else.”

I replayed his story in my head. “That’s just wrong.”

“What?” He returned his arms to his sides. “My ink?”

“No, that your parents are controlling. You helped them out when you
didn’t have to and this is how they treat you?” I’d struggle to smile in
their presence.

He rolled his eyes. “They’re lame. I know.”

“Why don’t you sue them?”

He chuckled. “That would cause more headaches. And money. They could
afford a much better lawyer than I could. If I just play their stupid
game, I’ll get my money. Then they can kiss my ass.”

“I’m still a little confused…how does a girlfriend change any of this?”

“They think if I have a serious woman in my life, it’ll change me.
Because nothing they have said or done has made a difference, maybe a
wife will.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I don’t understand their
thought process. But whatever. The sooner I get this shit over with, the
sooner I can move on.”

I’d had a lot of unusual clients but this seemed to be the strangest one. “Well, I can do that for you.”

“Great.” He drummed his fingers on the table like he was playing a
song. He could hardly sit still and he talked a lot. It was like he had
ADD. “So, we’ll go out to dinner with them and begin this stupid
charade.”

“Whoa, hold on.”

He stopped drumming. “What?”

“You can’t just show up with a girlfriend that quickly.”

“Why not?” he asked. “Let’s get the ball rolling.” He did a quick drum solo with his fingers.

“Don’t you think that would look suspicious to have a girlfriend
twenty-four hours later? You’re going to need to wait at least a few
weeks.”

He groaned then covered his face like he wanted to
scream. “A few weeks? I don’t have a few weeks. Sweetheart, I got shit
to do.” “Well, it’s just not believable. You’ll have to be patient.”

He lowered his hands and sighed like I was right. “Maybe I should just
hire a hit man. I’d get a much higher return on my investment that way.”

I knew he was joking. Well…I hoped he was joking. “There’re a few rules I want to go over before we do this.”

“Yeah, me too.” He stopped drumming and leaned forward across the
table. “Look, I know this is a business transaction and you’re just
doing your job, but nothing is going to happen between us. I’m not the
boyfriend type and I never will be. I don’t want you to get your hopes
up just to be disappointed.”

What?

“Girls always think
I’ll change for them and I’ll fall so madly in love that I won’t be able
to live without them. That’s not the case. I’m set in my ways and I
won’t change for anybody. So, don’t expect anything. I really don’t want
to break your heart like I did to all the others.”

What the hell is he talking about?

“And since this is a business relationship, I’m not going to hook up with you either. I just want a professional—”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

He halted in midsentence and shut his mouth.

Man, I’d never met someone so cocky in my life. “I’m not sure what I
did to give you the impression that I want to jump your bones, but I
don’t. You’re my client and I will give you whatever you need to reach
your goals. I’m not looking for a hookup or a boyfriend, especially from
a client. Don’t make assumptions.”

“I’m not making an assumption,” he said. “I’m just warning you.”

“Warning me?” I asked. “You aren’t my type so we have nothing to worry about.”

“I just like to be honest with my intentions. In the past, women have
misinterpreted my actions and it always leads to them crying their eyes
out. And they always say, ‘You are the one. Let’s get married. I can’t
live without you. Blah blah.’ and it’s super annoying.”

“Damn, you’re a dick.”

“What?” A blank expression came over his face. “I’m just being honest.”

“Well, stop talking. Now, can I say what I need to say?”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “The floor is yours.”

He was such a beautiful man, but he was such a dick underneath that
pretty package. I should have known there was something wrong with him.
“This is a strictly professional interaction. There will only be
handholding and waist touching. No kissing, no feelings, and no sex.”

“That’s fine.”

“This is not a dating service—”

He rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, am I boring you?” I snapped.

“Shelly already told me all of this. I know the rules.” “Well, people choose to break them anyway and I need to make sure you won’t.”

“Believe me, I can control myself. You’re smoking hot and have a
perfect body, and you’re nice too, but I’m not some weird creeper that’s
going to stick my tongue down your throat just because my dick is
hard.”

He could be really sweet, but he was an arrogant jerk at
the same time. At least he was thoughtful and nice some of the time.
“Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way.”

“It sounds like we understand each other,” he said. “So, this should be no problem for either of us.”

“Why didn’t you just get a real girl to do this?” I asked. “I’m not cheap.”

“And use her then toss her aside when I’m done with her?” he asked incredulously.

I assumed that was something he did on a regular basis. “No, that’s not my style. Hiring someone is much easier.” He rose from the seat. “I’ll call the office when I need you.”

“Uh…where are you going?”

“They’re having a sale on acoustics at Guitar Center. I was going to check it out.”

He was such a scatterbrain. “Well, we aren’t done here.”

“We aren’t?” He sat down again. “What else do you want to talk about? The weather?”

“I need to get to know you so I know how to behave in front of your
parents. If I know nothing about you, they’re going to know it’s all an
act.”

He released an irritated sigh. “I’m not that interesting.” “Then it shouldn’t take long.”

He drummed his fingers again as he tried to think of something to
share. His hair was slightly messy like he ran his fingers through it
often. On him, it looked sexy. He had such nice features he could get
away with pretty much anything. Even in t-shirt and jeans, he was a nice
piece of eye candy.

I took the reins since he was taking so long. “You play guitar?” “Yeah, I’ve been playing for a long time. I’m pretty good.”

“Do you play the drums?” I could only assume so since he kept drumming the table.

“Yeah. And I play the keyboard but that’s my least favorite instrument.”

“You like Led Zeppelin?”

His eyes narrowed. “How did you know that?”

“You were drumming it on the table.”

“You recognized the song?” His eyes lit up in interest.

“Yes.”

“Wow, that’s cool. Most girls I know listen to Taylor Swift and shit.”

“I listen to Taylor Swift.” I rested my hands on the table. “I listen to everything.”

“You can always go down to the courthouse and change it.”

He chuckled. “Discreetly insulting me…nice.”

“So, back to you. You like guitar?”

“Yep. It’s my favorite instrument.”

“What do you care more about?” I asked. “Music or inking?”

He cringed. “Baby, don’t make me choose.”

“Don’t call me baby. It’s Alessandra.”

He growled quietly. “Fine. I can’t choose. It’s too difficult.”

“Why do you like inking?”

“What kind of question is that?” he asked. “Why does an artist like to
paint? He just does. Inking is artwork and I love it. I create something
that stays on someone’s skin forever. What’s cooler than that?”

“It is interesting.”

“Do you have ink?”

“No.” I’d thought about it a few times but never had the courage to go through with it.

“Good.” He released a sigh.

“Why is that good?” I assumed he would want me to have ink.

“My parents don’t approve of tattoos. It’s better if you don’t have any.”

That made sense. “When did you get your first tattoo?”

“On my eighteenth birthday. I would have done it sooner but my parents wouldn’t sign the permission papers.”

“Is there any particular taste you have in ink?”

He rubbed the back of his neck as he shrugged. “Whatever looks cool.”

“Do you have any piercings?”

He stuck out his tongue. A black metallic ball sat in the center of his tongue. He retracted it and shut his mouth.

I’d never known a guy with a tongue piercing so I never had an opinion
about it before, but Ash made it look sexy. He was oblivious to other
people’s feelings and he was full of himself, but he was still hot. “Did
that hurt?”

“No.”

He seemed like the type of guy who would lie about it just to be macho. “Any other piercings?”

He grinned in a wicked way. “I would show you but that would endanger the professionalism of our relationship.”

My neck and cheeks suddenly felt warm. “Now that had to hurt.”

“A little,” he said. “The healing part of it hurt the most.” “Why?”

“Because I couldn’t have sex for three months until it healed. I couldn’t even jerk off. It totally sucked.”

“TMI…”

“Hey, you asked.”

I’d never known a guy with a dick piercing either. Was it uncomfortable for the girl?

“And I doubt my parents are going to ask you about it since they have no idea.”

“Why did you pierce it?”

“Girls like it.”

“They do?”

“Doesn’t it tear through the condom?”

“Not if you know what you’re doing.”

Talking about him having sex with a dick piercing was giving me ideas I
shouldn’t think about. “Anything else I should know about you?”

“You’re blushing.” He kept grinning and wouldn’t stop.

“I’m not blushing.” I lowered my face in the hope that would help.

“I’ll show you if you’re interested.”

“Let’s change the subject,” I said quickly.

“Whatever you want, Alessandra.” He said my name slowly and rolled the R.

I ignored him.

“I was in the army for four years. They’ll expect you to know that.” “Really?” I blurted. I didn’t expect that from him.

“Don’t think I’m honorable,” he said quickly. “I enlisted to piss off
my parents. I would have enjoyed it more if I could have actually seen
them pissed off more often. I was overseas for fifteen months.”

“Why would that piss them off?”

“They kept telling me they wanted me to be a better person so I decided
to pledge my life to keep my country safe. But I risked my life in the
process so I made them eat their own words.”

“Wow…that’s a big deal.”

He shrugged. “I don’t regret it. It gave me a lot of perspective. Now
my tolerance for bullshit is even lower. When my parents bitch about my
immaturity and stupid life goals, I think about all the men in my tour
that never came home. They spend so much time caring about something so
stupid instead of just letting me be who I am. Maybe they should go over
there so they can grow the fuck up.” He shook his head then looked out
the window.

Ash was more complex than he seemed. He was an
asshole sometimes, but there was a lot more to him than what he
projected. “What did you do over there?”

“Grunt. When I took the
exam, I had really high scores. They wanted to put me in other areas of
the field that wouldn’t land me on the ground. But I told them I wanted
to be a soldier.”

“You’re so brave.”

Instead of saying something cocky or arrogant, he didn’t say anything at all.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that.

“I’ve never been so scared in my life. I can sit here and pretend like
there weren’t times when I thought I wouldn’t make it back home, but
that would be a lie. I’m not ashamed to admit that.”

I held his gaze and felt my heart ache. “You wouldn’t be brave if you also weren’t scared. That’s the whole definition of it.” “And the scariest part of all is something you’d least expect.”

I didn’t ask what it was.

“Coming home. After being over there for so long, I was constantly on
my guard. Anytime I heard an unusual sound, I grabbed for my gun. I had
nightmares for a long time about the things I’ve seen. I dreamt of the
faces of my dead comrades. It took me a long time to finally integrate
back into society. My parents never understood that. The second I was on
American soil, they tried to get me to change my life and take a better
path than I was on before.” He removed his gaze and looked out the
window. “I’m sorry…I’m rambling.”

“I asked. And I’m very interested.”

He turned back to me. “I don’t want you to think I’m a broken soul or
something. I hardly think about my time over there. I never let myself
think about it.”

“Well, thank you for your sacrifice.” I meant what I said and wasn’t just giving him empty words. “I love having my freedom.”

He smiled slightly. “You’re very welcome.”

I stared down at my hands because I couldn’t hold his gaze any longer. “Anyway…they’ll expect you to know that about me.”

“I’m surprised you can’t get a VA loan.”

“I destroyed my credit when I bought a bike.” He shook his head. “I
bought it even though I couldn’t afford it and then I crashed it. It was
right when I came back from the military and I was a little reckless.”

“Were you injured?”

“In the military?”

“I meant in the bike accident…” But I wouldn’t mind hearing the answer to that question too.

“Oh, no,” he said quickly. “Just a few bruises and no one else was hurt. But I was shot in Afghanistan.”

My eyes widened. “Oh my god…are you okay?” It was a stupid thing to ask since he was obviously fine.

He touched the left side of his torso. “A bullet grazed me from the
side. It didn’t hit any organs so I recovered quickly. But I had a
really bad scar there.”

“Had?”

“I inked over it. I ink all my scars so you can’t see them.”

“Oh…” He had more than one?

“I had a cut on my forearm but I covered that.” He pointed to the area
where a tattoo of a dog tag sat. But his name wasn’t on the metal.
“That’s my buddy’s name. He died over there.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“He was a good guy. Had a wife and everything.”

“That’s terrible…”

“She’s really nice,” he said. “I’ve been paying her rent for a while now. That’s also why I don’t have much cash right now.”

“You pay her rent?” It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.

“She didn’t have a job when her husband died and she had no way to get
by. If I had a wife and I died, I know he would have done the same for
me. And she’s a really sweet person. She has a job now but it doesn’t
pay much. She’s looking for something better.”

I didn’t know what to say. His layers were endless. “That’s really sweet of you.” He shrugged and looked out the window again.

Maybe I got a bad first impression of him. There was obviously more to him than his arrogance. “Is there anything else?”

“Like I said, I’m not that interesting.”

“Do you have siblings?”

“Only child.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t spoiled rotten.”

“I used to be when I was younger. But when I started listening to rock
music and playing my guitar, my parents assumed I was on the way to
drugs.”

“Have you ever done drugs?”

“Hell no. My parents are just paranoid people.”

I hadn’t even met his parents but I didn’t like them. They had a
wonderful son who was just rough around the edges. Underneath all of
that, he was a great person. “You deserve better.”

“There are
times when I wish I had different parents, but they did raise me and put
a roof over my head. It wasn’t always bad like this. I do my best to
get along with them, but sometimes I feel like they aren’t giving me
that same effort. In the end, I do love them—even when I want to murder
them.”

“They’re lucky to have you.”

“I don’t know about that…I was a handful. They deserve a medal for raising me.” I chuckled. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”

“I wish I were.” He crossed his arms over his large chest. “So, anything else you want to know?”

“I assume you didn’t go to college?”

He just stared at me.

“That’s a no…”

“I’m not college material.”

“I’m sure you could do anything you put your mind to.” I made a few notes in my notebook.

“What’s your story?” he asked. “Why are you an escort?”

I spun the pen in my fingers. “We’re here to talk about you, not me.”

“We can’t be friends?” he asked. “Don’t I have to know something about you before I bring you home to my parents?”

“Well, I need to create an alias. What do you think your parents would like?” “A goodie goodie. Someone well mannered and educated. Something boring.”

“Okay,” I said. “How about I say I attended NYU for literature and then
started running a flower shop in Brooklyn? Where do your parents live?”

“Connecticut.”

“So, they probably don’t know all the flower shops in New York?” “Doubtful. That works. You look like you’d work in a flower shop anyway.”

“Thanks…or are you calling me boring?”

“No.” He gave me a smile. “Actually, that’d be really cute. I’d totally
make a pass at you if I saw you priming roses in the window of a shop.”

My cheeks felt warm again. “Thanks…I guess I’ll have to research different flowers and what not.”

“My parents aren’t going to interrogate you that much.”

“I’d rather be prepared,” I said. “It’s what you’re paying me for.”

“I feel like all my money was spent on your beauty.” He said it with a
straight face. “Are you a model and just do this on the side for money?”

It was the biggest compliment I’d ever gotten. “Uh, no. This is my only job.”

“Really?” he asked in surprise. “You fooled me.”

“It’s good money and I have control over my hours.”

“Do what you like and don’t give a shit what anyone else says,” he said
bluntly. “I’m just surprised you don’t get tired of men gawking at you
all the time.”

“They don’t,” I said. “Some do but not all.”

“Maybe I should get into this business.” He winked at me.

“You would get fired so fast.”

“Why?” he asked defensively.

“Because you’d sleep with all the clients.”

“So?” he asked. “What’s wrong with that?”

I rolled my eyes. “The second you sleep with them, you’re breaking the law.” “How so?” He was totally clueless.

“Because it’s prostitution.”

“Oh…” His eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t think about it that way.”

“So, you’d never be able to work here.”

“That’s a shame,” he said. “I’d bring you a lot of business.”

“We bought the company from a group of guys a few years ago. Now we’re just a group of women running it.”

“This seems like a good gig. Why give it up?”

“They settled down. They didn’t want to moonlight as other people’s boyfriends anymore.”

“I guess that would be a conflict. If I ever had a wife, I wouldn’t let anyone touch her.”

“You think about getting married?” Earlier he said he didn’t do the girlfriend thing so I was a little confused.

“No. That’s why I said if and not when. Relationships aren’t for me. I
get what I need and then move on. And I’m happy that way.”

“Sounds lonely to me.”

He gave me a dark look. “I didn’t ask for your opinion and you have no right to judge me.”

“I wasn’t judging you.”

“It seemed like it.”

“I would just feel empty going from person to person forever. It would
be nice for a while but one day I’d want a single person to share my
life with. I’d want kids and stuff…”

“I don’t want kids.” He said it bluntly. “I’m not meant to be a father.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You haven’t figured it out in the hour you’ve been talking to me?” he
asked incredulously. “I’m an ex-military tattoo artist that can’t even
open his own shop. I’m not exactly a role model.”

“I don’t see
what the problem is with any of those things. All a parent needs to do
is love their child unconditionally. It doesn’t matter what you do for a
living.”

He stared at me with his lips pressed tightly together.

I looked down at my notes because his stare was becoming too intense.
“Is there anything else I should know? Like an ex-girlfriend or
something?”

“You’re the only one.”

Even though he meant that in a specific context, I felt my heart skip a beat. “Well, it looks like I have everything I need…”

“Good. I’ve got to get to Guitar Center. There’s this beauty…in the window. I must have her.”

I tried not to laugh. “I hope you get her.”

He stood up and looked down at me. “You know what I’m going to name her?” “Hmm?”

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

When people ask me how I come up with so many ideas for stories, I really don't have an answer. I want to say, "They fall out of the sky and land in my head." I never say that because it's unbelievable.

But it's the truth.

Hawke is a representation of a lot of things. Good, bad, evil, and darkness. He's not black, he exists in shades of gray. He's not a two dimensional character. He lives in three.

Shit, he lives in four.

I wanted to write a love story similar to ones I've written before, but distinctly different. In my experience, relationships aren't easy. They require work. And when one partner wants to give up, you're in danger. But when both want to call it quits, it's over.

When Hawke meets Francesca (AKA Frankie), that innate connection forms. But when he realizes he can't have her, he walks away--somehow. But can he stay away from someone that resonates in a tune only he can identify? She beats to her own drum, but what happens when her drum is the exactly the same as his own?

Relationships are hard. You fight. You cry. You break up. You get back together.But can you stay together?

These characters fight for one another, but will that be enough? Or will the darkness in each of their hearts keep them apart? Will this journey make them?

Or will it break them?

A lot of my stories are autobiographical, if you read between the lines. This one is particularly close to my heart. Sleeping in my bed one night, I jolted awake because the story came to me and I felt obligated to write it. While my husband moaned and told me to go back to bed, I grabbed my laptop and spent the rest of the evening writing about Hawke, a character I can't stop thinking about.

"Francesca, I'm the kind of man you hate."

"I don't believe you."

"You should."

I haven't gotten very far in the story, but I already know it's a piece of work I'm most proud of. I live in different worlds with different series all going at once, and sometimes I need a break. Not a break from writing, ironically. But a break from those universes.